Spirits We Seek
by FlimFlamFan
Summary: Atlas was dead, and had been for several years. And yet, Mitzi never quite knew who did it...sure, plenty of people would have wanted it to happen, and it was clear to her that the Marigold may have had something to do with it. But that wasn't enough...she wanted a name. And she had a good team on her side to try and get it.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Requiem

"_Eternal rest, grant them, O lord, and let eternal light shine upon them…" __-Requiem Mass _

April 10th, 1926 was a sunday. Mitzi was dressed in all black, and looked tired. Mostly, she was sad...wouldn't you be sad at your murdered husband's funeral? Everyone from the daisy was there...Zib, Ivy, Viktor, Mordecai, regular customers to people who'd just shown up.

Atlas May was a popular man, and officially died as a restaurateur in a failed home invasion. He'd been stabbed, and a knife was left at the scene….there was also no sign of a home invasion, implying all sorts of things, but a couple hundred dollars to the coroner was enough to keep that from getting released.

"Mitzi!" Rocky spotted her in the crowd. "Goodness, I'm so sorry about all this…"

"It's...alright." It wasn't. She'd actually come to love Atlas, even if at first their marriage was a bit of a power play.

"What does this mean for...y'know?"

"We're gonna have to punt, Rock, I dunno what else I can do…" A lot of folks had already left for the Marigold. Let's be honest with ourselves, not a lot of folks put faith in a country girl who played ukulele in a dixie band to run a business, even one she'd been a part of. The more conservative of these people figured she couldn't do it because it's a 'man's job', but a majority of them were from the city, and thought only a city person with an education could run something this big.

People were gonna leave. And people already had.

The ceremony went on. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the life, and mourn the loss, of Atlas May, a businessman who we all knew and loved…" no one showed much emotion. It was a crowd of investors come to watch their cash cow go down the drain, or a group of Marigold boys come to gloat, and the occasional mitzi loyalist, more full of despair than agony.

Mordecai handed some papers discreetly to a man in a gray coat, and Viktor watched as he did so...Viktor knew tonight would be awkward. "Mordecai." He put a hand on his shoulder. "No business, man is dead, ja?"

"I'm trying t-"

"Man is _dead. Ja?"_ Mordecai nodded….but the business had been done. Mordecai ached. He hurt a lot about all of this, but...the marigold was the only employer left. He needed to eat...Atlas would have understood. _Atlas would have understood. _That played in his mind, as if trying to convince himself, holding back tears and clenching his teeth and fists.

Zib rubbed Mitzi's shoulder as the pastor spoke. "It's alright...there's nothing you could have done." He looked down at her. "He loved you, that was clear...he really did."

"It's awful he's gone, Zib."

"I know...we can work our way through this."

"...a passage from a poem by Henry Scott Holland for his wife before his death…"

Ivy looked down, nervously fidgeting with her dress...she knew Atlas. She liked Atlas, and was full of questions...where did they go from here? Was it all Mitzi's now? What if Ruby died, and Mitzi hadn't enough money? What if Mitzi got framed and went up the river? She looked around her, trying to get a good look at things...she managed to get her way to the front of the crowd. She was teary eyed, and meant it too. It was baffling to her how the death of one single man could change her world so fast...not even a man she loved, just a man she knew and enjoyed spending time with. She sniffled a little, and looked over to the pastor.

"...Speak of me in the same easy way you always did. Laugh, as we always laughed, at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Think of me and smile. Let my Atlas be the household Atlas it always was, Spoken without the shadow of a ghost in it…"

Mitzi broke. She just couldn't do this….she didn't care about the business, or the money, or her old age or where she'd be in the next five years. _Her husband was dead. The man she loved was gone forever. _All probably because of some stupid dispute, some senseless violence that was just for business...not even a personal reason. What a cold, heartless way to die, to be killed for business.

She bawled, and Zib and Rocky raced to help her. Ivy just...watched. She had no idea what to do. This woman had been a sort of rock for her, and that rock was dipping its head below the waves, never to return.

"...and so we meet then, to say goodbye, and to reflect in a simple, private way on Atlas May's all too short, yet colorful and wondrous life."

The crowd all sort of dispersed, some of the loyal ones coming to Mitzi to say a simple 'sorry for your loss'...Mordecai arrived.

"I'm sorry for everything you've lost." She hugged him. "I'll...I'll be alright."

"Are you sure?"

"Almost certain...I'll find a way to keep it all afloat." Mordecai nodded. "I hope so…" He held back even more tears. He shakily heaved in air. "...I'll miss him."

"We all will."

"I know...I'm glad I won't be alone in that." Mordecai removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He shook his head. "I must get going…" he took off. Ivy hugged Mitzi tightly. "Mitzi, I'm so sorry this all happened! It must all be so sudden!" Mitzi patted Ivy's back. "Now, now, sweetie...you're alright...goodness, you're gettin' tears all over me…"

"You're getting tears on me, too." She looked up and tried to smile. "I'm still with you all the way, Mitzi."

"At least a few people are…" she walked back to the little daisy cafe, and sat in the main dining room. She just sat at a table and thought. She looked up as the door opened, half expecting Atlas to show up. It was Rocky, Zib, Ivy, and Viktor...and, of course, Horatio. She looked up. "Sorry folks, not open tonight….go on home."

Zib shook his head. "We just want to figure out what's happening next."

"I do, too...I do, too." She had no idea what to do. Her husband was gone, she had no idea how to run a speakeasy, and she was just...frightened.

But no one ever got used to the water without jumping in first. She knew that.


	2. Chapter 2:Precious Trinkets

Chapter 2: Precious Trinkets

It was late, and Dominic Drago was ready to be in bed. It had been a while since he stopped pulling god awful one nighters for the noble cause of stopping people's merriment. He was officially starting to be more of a family man, as of a few months ago. But one case was racking his brain.

On his table was a knife, uncleaned since the day it was last used, a piece of paper, and a muddy, size 11 shoe that had been left in a garden. He hasn't got much else to go off of. If only Mitzi had taken better photos that night. He picked up his phone, but...god, it was late. He shook his head. He'd call tomorrow.

He woke up the next morning, got dressed, made lunch for the children, and sent them off to school. He looked at the kitchen table, where his wife usually answered phone calls. He sighed, and went to his bedroom, seeing Lorelei and kissing her forehead.

"You're still burnin'."

"Could be worse…" She smiled and kissed him. "I could've had whatever this was a few weeks ago."

"I'm sorry I gave this to you, I didn-" He couldn't finish before Lorelei laughed. "It isn't like you _knew, _Dom. Besides, I probably got it from one of the kids." She sat up, sniffling a little and propping herself up on a pillow. "How's that May case?"

"Cryptic as always...I'm gonna call her today and see if she can't come in." He ran a hand through her hair. "Don't feel like you have to stay in here all day."

"And if I do decide to stay in here all day long?" Lorelei smirked. "What're you gonna do about it, hmm?" She got up in his face. "What if I DO wanna sit around all day?" She kissed his cheek, and he hugged her tightly. "Then you'll sit around." He patted her back and purred. "I hear a lot of people complain about marriage, y'know." He said.

"Would you ever?" Dominic looked into his wife's eyes, and shook his head.

"Never could."

After a bit more necking, Dominic remembered he needed to get some things done today, and decided it would be best to do them in a timely fashion. He walked up to his office, and got on the phone. "Yes, could I get the Little Daisy Cafe please? Thank you." He waited for an answer.

"Hello?" It was Mitzi.

"Miss May? This is Dominic Drago, I was wondering if you could come to my office for a while to discuss the case you have with us." He spoke pretty discreetly, a product of his days with the IRS. Mitzi responded. "Why, of course...I can be there in a few minutes if you need me urgently?"

"I might...it appears some of the material hasn't been as helpful as we'd thought."

"Hmm...well, I suppose I ought to come down there then." She hung up without much else. He waited at the kitchen table, and then saw her coming up the drive of his little suburban house. She hadn't walked, had she? He'd have to drive her back. She walked up and knocked on the door. He opened it and smiled. "Miss May. Pleasure to have you."

"Pleasure's all mine…" She smiled and shook his hand. "So, are you still running out of that study upst-" She paused.

"...is there a problem?"

"Where's that cute little wife of yours?" She asked.

"Oh, she's sick...think it might be the flu. I had it for a while, gave it to her I think."

"I better not walk out of here sick." He shook his head. "No, ma'am, so long as you don't go near the bedroom." Mitzi smirked. "Well, s'long as you're as happy with her as you say you are that won't be an issue, now, will it?" She walked into the office and saw the evidence, laid out on the table. "So….there's the knife...and that shoe." She said. "And the paper." She sat down in front of everything. Dom sat down. "The paper's blank, but...it could be useful."

"I suppose." Dom took out the photos that Mitzi'd taken. "Now, the problem here is I can't see where he was stabbed from."

"Oh...heavens, sorry I hid that. It was the front. There were signs of a struggle, but no boot prints on the floor."

"Which makes me wonder about the shoe." He slouched in his chair. "My best guess is that someone got his shoes muddy, figured that'd be an issue, and found a way inside which would give him time to take off his shoes and socks."

"But who would walk around barefoot in the rain? Wouldn't that draw suspicion?" Dom pondered for a moment. "...not if he exited through the actual daisy. He'd end up at some drop off point, I reckon."

"So the killer knew his way around the place, then?" Mitzi asked. Dominic nodded. "Indeed he did. And he must've had orders based on that."

"You think it was the marigold?" Mitzi asked. Dominic looked at the paper...then furrowed a brow. "Just a moment, Miss May." He picked up the paper and held it to the light...dear lord.

"Invisible ink. Lemon juice I think." It was a pretty detailed list of instructions.

-enter thru cellar, never locked, 7 o'clock

-walk up stairs at back, no shoes, quiet, slow

-kill man

-back down SAME WAY

-hole in wall behind dresser

-left at first fork

-right at second

-wait until 9 o'clock

Dominic put the paper down. "...no answers, still, but we have a plan, and they knew the house, too. Was there a secret staircase?"

Mitzi looked down. "W-well...the building was built during slavery, and they gave them a different staircase, I suppose." Dom nodded. "And this man must've known that somehow." He stood and paced. "Either that or the man writing knew. The one who did it might've just been following the script."

"But why drop it?" Mitzi asked. "How'd he get out?"

"Where'd you find the paper?"

"In the cellar."

"So either he gets it, memorizes the instructions, and leaves to do the job, or he kills Atlas, walks back down stairs, and memorizes the way out? How was he supposed to know we'd find out?"

"Fair point." Mitzi sat on the table. "Size 11 shoe...can you get his height from that?"

Dominic furrowed a brow. "...his height?"

"Well you can get _something_ from his shoe size, right?"

"11 is about my size, so...he might be a little bigger than average. I get more from the knife. He went to the hilt, didn't he?"

"Must've panicked."

"Must have...and he wore gloves. He wasn't a stranger to this type of thing."

"Probably marigold. Who else has the resources and the knowledge there?"

Dominic sat back down. "So...you have a rat, who gives out information to the Marigold. Marigold sends a man with that information. He pulls the job."

"That's how it went."

"If we find the former employee who ratted...we'll be able to find out who did it." Mitzi pinched the bridge of her nose. "Could have been anyone. Pressure's high in that line, after all...even before Atlas' death a lot of people wanted to go to the Marigold." She rolled her eyes, and threw her arms up. "So much more _action, _the Daisy's too _stable, _I joined this game to shoot people, not to get rich, all that sorta stuff."

"Well, the Marigold's instability should work to our advantage." Dominic noted. "After all, with such an unstable program...what's gonna stop us?"

There was one man, of course, who could stop them from finding out much information.

Mordecai Heller sat in his office and signed some paperwork. He was mostly just trying to get his taxes in order before they were all due. Mordecai had a lot on his plate these days, between normal work, and just trying to keep his head above water emotionally. He and Viktor were going through another spat...his schedule didn't make it much better. He had something important scheduled with the Savoys, and after that he needed to run some errands around town, and after that he needed to cook something or he'd starve...the gangster life is only glamorous for the ones at the top. The ones with the diamond rings don't have to do what he does, that's for sure.

He flicked one of his ears, and looked at a red crayon in his writing desk. He picked it up. He didn't let on that he did this, but he often wondered how such little things would become precious, nostalgic, and sentimental. What business did he have being so torn up when he saw a stupid crayon? And yet, when he picked it up, he could smell New York, and his family...he wanted to be able to go back. He _yearned _to go back…

He got up and stretched, and heard a knock on his door. "Peekon! You in dere?"

"...Serafine. Come in."


	3. Chapter 3: Sensemayá

Chapter 3: Sensemayá

"_The dead snake cannot eat; the dead snake cannot hiss; he cannot move, he cannot run!" -Nicolás Guillén, 'Sensemayá'_

Mordecai got into the car and started to drive. "What exactly are we doing with this man, again?" He looked over so Serafine, sitting in the seat across from him.

"Dis man com' up to de Arbogasts an try to make a run for it wit our goods. We gon' kill 'im." Ahh. Typical, sadly; the Arbogasts were in the middle of scenic nowheresville, and yet they tended to get robbed quite often. Simple fix...find whodunnit, and dispose of them. Serafine and Mordecai weren't always sent on runs like this, but...frankly, resources were slim after a recent incident involving a Marigold Vendor being killed by vengeful gunmen.

The man in question was actually identified by Elsa Arbogast, to be a man by the name of Henry Walsh, who could be found in defiance. Henry was a guy who regularly stole from vendors...sometimes, he was violent about it, as Serafine and some other Vodou practitioners found out the hard way. Serafine had a personal vendetta, here, but Mordecai was having doubts.

"Why bother killing him, Serafine?"

"Oh, no, what's got inte you, Peekon? You nevah turn down a chance t'kill."

"I don't want to muss my jacket is all."

"Muss yo' jacket! Ha! No, it's sometin else, eh?"

"It's broad daylight. A bit of intimidation would do." He said. "I don't want to go away for killing Henry Walsh, of all people. Him? At least let me try and kill someone important before I get locked up."

"You won' get put up fo dis. I got a plan." She smirked. "Just sit back."

The pair got to defiance, and parked the car. The first part of the job was to find him. Mordecai walked into a general store, peeking around at goods and acting natural. The man looked up from behind the counter.

"Afternoon."

"Hmm? Likewise." He went up to the counter with some goods that were just for show...Serafine walked with him. He looked up. "How much for 6 colas?"

"Those? Eh, 30 cents."

"Ring those, too." He said. Serafine grabbed them. "Entertaining someone?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid I've forgotten much about where he lives. I know he's from here, though…"

"Ah, who is it? I could be helpful."

"Henry Walsh." That was...easier than it should have been. The man looked up. "May I ask who's asking?"

"Zeb Wright." He said. "An old friend of his."

"Ahh...well, he's the house with the red roof, up the road a little, take a left. It's far back though, couldn't see it from the road...just look for a red mailbox, it's got a 16 on it. Don't talk to him much though...no one does. He's a tad reclusive." He said. Mordecai just nodded, tipped his hat, paid for his goods, and walked out. He drove.

"You don' want de cola, do you?"

"Had to make it look like a picnic or something. You can keep it."

"Sure." They saw the mailbox.. Serafine looked over. "Alright, 'ere's what we're gon' do. Drive up as close as we can get. Den, we tie 'im, put 'im in de back, and just drive to where I tell you, yes?" Mordecai nodded, and pulled the car up incredibly close...lucky them, it was a long driveway. He exited the car quickly, pulling out his gun...gentle persuasion at this stage, and presumably necessary at the next. They knocked on the door. "Henry! Come out!" The house was back in the woods, no one could hear them.

Which is probably why they decided to just break a window and go inside that way instead.

Henry was there, in the sitting room, holding a baseball bat. "I'm not giving back the liq-OH!" He was kicked hard in the knee by Serafine, and went down. They bound his mouth and loaded him into the car. "Heavy isn't he?"

"Must be de guilt form robbin'."

"Must be." They started to drive. "Where to?" Asked Mordecai.

"Get back to de general store and hang right." She said. "Den just drive." He did so, driving all the way past buildings and buildings, until coming to a small river bank. "Stop 'ere." Said Serafine...oddly, she was looking out at the water, seemingly determined. "Stop de car." He got out and unloaded the man from the back. Henry writhed and tried to kick his way from bondage, but it didn't work. Serafine took charge...and Mordecai, usually one to be involved in this sort of situation, just...watched.

"'Ey, dere, 'enry…" She pulled a massive machete from the car. Mordecai furrowed a brow. "You remember me? From de big job you tried t'pull ages ago...killt a friend of mine, remember dat?" Henry shook his head. Mordecai watched. He hadn't known Serafine when that happened. Suddenly, he heard a muffled yelp. And then a god awful tearing noise.

And then an ear flung towards his feet.

And then another.

And then a head. A shocked, horrified, gagged looking head.

Serafine stood from the body, covered with blood. "I 'ave a clean jacket in de car. 'Elp me wit' 'is body, eh?" Mordecai didn't hesitate, taking off his jacket and tossing the body in the river. "Prints will wash off, I assume...that, and no head means no ID. He doesn't have a wallet on him, does he?"

Serafine was ahead of him, and was palming through a brown leather wallet, smirking. "Must've got dis cash from seelin' stolen beer. Better keep it."

They started to drive, the head and ears in the trunk on Serafine's jacket. "Sorry abour your jacket, we can't stain the seat, y'know."

"Ah, it's just a jacket. It's worth it."

Mordecai looked over. "Why'd you cut off his head?"

"You said it, peekon, we didn't wanna let de police know who dat was."

"Well, sure, but why not just shoot him and bury him? We have a shovel."

"Not about dat." She said, looking out the car door. "It's revenge." She casually looked at her nails. "De man had it comin', soon as he decided to mess wit me."

"Elsa didn't really identify Henry Walsh, did she?"

Serafine was silent. Mordecai prodded. "He stole a lot, but never from us...you wanted a way to have him done away w-"

"_De man had it comin'."_ She spoke swiftly.

"...I suppose so." He said. He kept driving. He thought for a moment. "So this man hurt someone in your past, who was important to you, yes?"

"Yes." She said, crossing her arms. Mordecai nodded gently. "So if a friend of yours was in need of his own revenge, you'd help him?"

"I s'pose...why're you askin'?" Mordecai hesitated for a moment, and then...he decided to speak. "An old friend from the Daisy and a neutral party are trying to find the man who killed my former employer." He said. "Ever since they came into money again I've been hoping to go back, and this could be my way in."

"An' you want me to help you, huh?" She winked. "I'll help wit' your little hunt, peekon."

"Good. I think those two will need all the help they can get." Serafine nodded. "Dey will…"


	4. Chapter 4: Libera Me

Chapter 4: Libera Me

"_Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death in that awful day. _

_When the heavens and the earth shall be moved:_

_When Thou shalt come to judge the world by fire" -Requiem Mass_

There was fire. Hellish, bright orange flames, singing the coats and tails of everyone he knew and loved. They screamed to him. "Why, Calvin! Why have you sinned so much, that is dragged your loved ones to hell?" He shook, and writhed, bound and unable to look away. He tried to shout but his throat stung, even when he would breath in. Ivy was being stabbed and burned, looking into his eyes. "Why, Calvin!? WHY!?" The devil turned to face him, and the devil resembled himself.

"You have wrought this, boy. Look at your doing. Look." He shouted, holding Calvin's cheeks in his fiery hands. "LOOK, BOY!"

He shot up. He was in his room. It was only 11 o'clock.

Another nightmare...they were quite common these days. He sighed and wiped his brow, opening his window and looking out. He needed air...he dressed himself, and snuck out of the house, carrying with him a pistol he'd been given by Wick...he needed air, but he didn't need to be robbed.

He walked down the street, closer to town. He realized he was on the bad side, but he kept himself a little taller, and made sure not to look too well to do. He kept his eyes forward, breathing in the cold night air. He felt something tugging at his leg, and looked down. A little girl, wearing basically rags, looked up at him, smiling. "Hey, mister!" He instinctively waved at her. "Uh...hello. Where are your pa-"

"Looking for a good time?"

Calvin stifled laughter and his eyes shot wide open. He looked shocked. "Where...did...where'd you learn that?"

"Oh! My big sister says it makes friends." Calvin nodded. "Ah, I see….well, maybe not the sort of friend someone your age ought to be looking for." He said. "Do you...live with yer sister?"

"Sure I do! She lets me play outside all night, too." Calvin knew why, but...well, c'mon, the kid looked to be 6 years old and he wasn't ready to drop that on her. "Alright." He said. "Y'know, this part of town's not so safe for little girls to be out in."

"I know. I usually stay in the other room, but she must be havin' some awful nightmares in there, she's screamin' and hollerin' and-"

"Why...don't we just talk a while? Safer to have someone around than to be alone."

"Okie doke!" She looked up at him. "I'm Ellie. What's your name?"

"Calvin." he said. He knelt down. "Ellie? Nice to meet you." He shook her hand. She scratched her head. "You talk funny. Are you from England?"

"Ireland."

"My sister Carol says people from England talk funny. I wonder if she knows people from Ireland talk funny too!" Calvin laughed. "Well, it's likely that she does." He stood tall. "Where does your sister live?"

"Up there." She pointed at a seedy looking apartment building. He looked on. "Which room? Do you know?"

She shook her head. "Couldn't tell you from here, mister." He saw someone with seemingly rushed on clothes walking out, and looking shifty. "...could you tell me form the inside?"

"Sure!" He wanted to make sure nothing happened. After all, this was a little girl we're talking about. It's a good thing she ran into someone who used to feel bad for finishing the milk. He walked with her to the apartment, picking her up and hoisting her on his shoulders. "C'mon, let's get you back in fer th'night."

"Hehee, you're tall!" She laughed and smiled. He shook his head. Wait until she saw someone like Mordecai...he got to the apartments. "Up the stairs, second floor. Over to the left." He went until she stopped, and he knocked on the door. Ellie waited.

Out came, presumably, Carol. She looked hastily dressed, in a bathrobe, with messy long hair and white fur, with baby blue eyes. She was frail. "Ellie! How...oh, hello, sir." She leaned on the door frame as Ellie walked in. Calvin shook his head. "No, no, I, uhm...I'm not here fer that."

"Don't even want a bit of my time?" Calvin sighed. "Well, not fer _that,_ if that's what you mean." She nodded, and her mood changed.

"Oh...I see. W-well...what are you here for?"

"I met your sister and I wanted to make sure she got home safe." Carol crossed her arms. "She wasn't out too far, was she?" She looked over at Ellie. "No, carol!" Calvin shook his head. "No, she was just over there." He pointed out the window. Calvin stood there, with the girl in the door, for a few short moments. "I...uhm." He fiddled with his pockets. "Listen, I dunno how you take to charity, I know you're doin' your best, but...every bit helps, aye?" He pulled out a few dollars and handed it over. "...all I got outside th'bank."

Carol smiled a little. "Oh...thanks, mister…"

"Calvin!" Ellie said. "Shh, Ellie, people are trying to sleep."

"Carol, if you ever need someone to watch her, I could. It's safer than being out on the streets." Carol furrowed a brow. "...no funny business, right? I've known enough men to know plenty of creeps." Calvin held up his hand and pointed to a ring. "Hasn't stopped everyone, but...it'll stop me."

"If you say so...I 'open up' around 8...just…" She looked over, then down. "She's the world to me, Calvin...just keep her safe."

"My word to the father." He shook her hand.

"Thank you, Calvin."

With that, he was gone, and off on his walk. Through downtown, near the busy speakeasies...he thought he saw a familiar face or two walking back home, but he wasn't one to stop and make conversation. He got back home, hung up his hat, and snuck back to bed. He made up on some lost hours of sleep.

The next morning, Calvin left through that side of town again, and looked around. No sign of either of the girls. It was early, though, and it wasn't really his place to barge in on. He knew the apartment number, and all he'd need to know. He got closer to work, when-

"Freckle!" Ivy waved at him and came over, hugging him tightly. "Calvin! How're you?" Cal smiled and kissed her forehead, purring gently. "I'm fine...I have something important, tonight, though." Ivy smirked playfully. "What's more important than spending the night with your future bride?"

"Well, I...ehh…" he tugged at his collar. "I...may have gone on a walk last night and met a little girl who I need to take care of during the evenings now."

Ivy was...confused. "...beg pardon?" Calvin explained everything he knew about the situation. Ivy just nodded. "Oooooh, okay. Look at you, you little old samaritan!" She pecked his cheek. "I knew I chose a good one…"

"I don't think it's every night, but…"

"Either way." She gasped. "THAT'S how we could spend the night together!"

Calvin laughed. "I'm sorry?"

"Sounds like she never even had a mother, or a father...we could give her the whole package! We're even married! Almost…"

"A few months, love, just a few months." They walked into the daisy. "Where would we bring her?" Ivy asked.

"Ma's out of town again. Not back til tuesday." He said. "Would you be willing to come 'round 8?"

"I'd be delighted." She held his hand. Calvin kissed her gently and sat down. "Sorry to rain on your plans." Ivy shook her head. "Any time with you is time well spent, Cal...don't you worry."


	5. Chapter 5: An Invitation

Chapter 5: An invitation

Rocky was awfully bored. After the daisy had come into many again and people had returned, his job got considerably less exciting. Sure, the Marigold was still a threat, but it wasn't as if he was dealing with Kehoe anymore. Gone were the days of getting embalming fluid and smoke from a guy in a river boat and hoping some random farmers don't steal it. Now all he does is drive and not get caught.

And so, today was one of those days. Drive to a place in the country, get the booze, go home. It was so safe that he could even do it before night really fell...it was around sunset by the time he got to the drop off point, and night had just fallen by the time he got back to the Daisy proper.

He walked up to Mitzi's office, and knocked on the door. "Come in." She said. He walked in, and was about to speak, but cut himself off. Mitzi was on the phone.

"Yes….alright, then. I suppose. Okay, well, good luck with that, Mr. Drago...yes, check is comin'. Good night."

"Who's that?" Rocky asked.

"Oh, well...you remember Mister Drago, don't you?"

"Of course I do! What're you paying him for?" Mitzi sat back in the chair. "Well, he's trying to find Atlas' killer with me." She said. "But we haven't gotten too far."

"Looking for a murderer!" He said. He sat down. "Say, maybe you could let me help you?" He leaned closer to her and smirked. Maybe it was a last ditch effort to win her over, or maybe it was a last bit of excitement, but he felt like he needed to do something.

"Well…" She thought. Rocky was very good at...specific things. Namely, doing a lot of damage in very little time. She wasn't sure that this could really be..._useful_ to this sort of job. But she knew she couldn't say no, mostly because he'd never let her hear the end of it. So, reluctantly…

"Alright. If Dominic says that he can use you for something, then we'll let him have you."

"Perfect!" Rocky exclaimed, sitting up. "I'll be glad to help! Especially with such important goals as this one! Finding the man who killed Atlas...I wonder who it could be? Maybe so-"

"One condition." Mitzi said, folding her hands and putting them on the table. "If you're gonna do it, you have to be _careful. _It's too dangerous to do something like this with no tact. I don't want this to make the front page."

Rocky scoffed and batted his arm at her. "Oh, of course I'm gonna be careful!" He heard the door open.

"Mitzi, I can't come in tonight, I gotta take care of a prostitute's little sister with Calvin." Mitzi and Rocky looked up, confused...what the hell did she just say?

"You...have to what?"

"Well, Calvin met this little girl, and her older sister's a prostitute, and-"

"Sweetie," Mitzi said, "I dunno if I quite understand what's going on but I suppose it's fine." Ivy nodded.

"Great! What were you talking about?" Before Mitzi could respond, Rocky stood tall. "We're looking for the murderer of Atlas May!" He said, proudly.

"Murderer! That sounds dangerous….I'd like to join!"

"Ivy, we've already got too many cooks in the ki-"

Rocky shook her hand. "It's a deal! I say we wait until Dominic gets back and figure it out from him."

"Sounds like a plan!" Ivy was just eager to go on an adventure. She walked out the door. "I have to go to the register and see if anyone shows up!" Mitzi looked concerned,

"Ivy, I-"

"Don't worry, Mitzi," Rocky said, walking out the door, "She'll be just fine!" Mitzi tried to speak. "Now, Rocky, I-"

"So long!" They both left, shutting the door of the office. Mitzi put her head in her hands.

"Oh, brother…"

Meanwhile, Dominic looked at that piece of paper, and read the handwriting. It looked...good. Educated. He walked downstairs, and sat on his bed. "Lorelei?" Lorelei, still sick, but getting better, sat up and smiled warmly.

"Crack the code, yet, honey?" She asked, her voice still hoarse and stuffed up from the flu.

"Afraid not...this handwriting is interesting though. Seems real fine." He said. He held it up to a flashlight he'd brought down with him, and she looked. "Ahhh….the old lemon juice trick." She looked at it. "You know my older brother used this in the war."

"The war?"

"A lot of spies and officers used it, as far as I know." Dominic nodded, holding her a little closer. "So someone who knows the place well, possibly a former employee...who was in the war."

"Didn't you mention someone like that?"

"Well, I know OF them, but I haven't gone out and met 'em yet." He said. "But I might have to take a look." He sat up. "Feeling any better, darlin'?"

"I'm feeling better than I did yesterday morning." She said. "I think it's starting to die down, which is nice." She stretched and got out of bed, walking over to the kitchen. Dominic followed. He leaned on the counter.

"So I think I'm closing in on this, but...the motive isn't there."

"Why's that?"

"Well, apparently they worked for the daisy at the time."

"Maybe they needed an out? Some sort of fight was going on between them and atlas, they couldn't just _leave, _you know the drill."

"Hmm, that's what I figured." He poured himself some water, and sipped it. He looked out the kitchen window. "Lovely day."

"Can't go out for a walk in my conditions."

"Could you sit out in the backyard for a while? Air might do us some good." Lorelei leaned onto him.

"Haven't you got a big case you're working on right now?"

"I'd have to drive to defiance and the kids are almost home from school." He said. "I don't know if I wanna make all that trouble."

"Well..I suppose if my big detective thinks he can stand the downtime, then sure…" She kissed his cheek, and they walked out to the backyard, sitting by the only tree that stood there. He held her hand, and they looked up at the clear sky. Spring was coming, and coming fast. Neither of them were really able to wait, even if it meant that Lorelei would be under even more strain from her allergies. She didn't care. She liked sitting out in the yard, and just being there. It was calming.

Dominic looked over at her and sighed. "You're beautiful in the light, there."

"You tell me I'm beautiful in nearly every light you see."

"Well I suppose that means something?"

"Stand in the light more often?" She got close to him, and kissed his cheek.

"Just so I can see you."


	6. Chapter 6: Working Girl

Chapter 6: Working Girl

Carol was tired. She'd had a long night with this guy, and it was finally over. She sat back, heaving in air, looking over at him. "That...wasn't bad."

"You're not just saying that?" He asked.

"No, I'm really not." She sat up. "But...you ought to be getting going, huh?"

"I could stay a minute...I'd like to." He sat up, as well, and looked over at her. "How did you end up in this line, anyhow?"

"Beg pardon?" She asked. It was rare that people asked.

"You know, how'd you start doing this? There isn't exactly a...union office or something like it, is there?"

She laughed. "It's right up the street, next to the one for the bootleggers. It's in the same building, if I recall." She looked over. "My folks died after a train accident, and my sister and I were alone. No education and I didn't wanna make shirts for a living...that, and I needed to be home during the day."

"Circumstance, huh?" The man asked. "Seems a lot of people end up in our spot because of that, huh?"

"What do you mean 'our' spot?" She asked.

"Well, I just solicited a fairly _illegal _service from you, didn't I?" He smirked. "Besides, I've done other stuff, too….mostly for bootleggers." Carol looked over.

"Did you, now?"

"Well...just one thing." He said. He looked down. "You don't mind if I talk about it, do y-"

"Sweetie, you go on ahead and talk as much as you want...meter's running, though. Brevity might be your friend." The man laughed.

"I've got plenty…" He looked down.

"So, a while ago, I dated this girl, right? She was fantastic...great dancer, good looks, smart as a whip...well her godmother ran this speakeasy, right?" He looked down and drooped his ears. "Some guy with a boatload of money comes up to me. I was behind on some tuition stuff and I needed it bad. He wanted me to map a quick route through the house, he said for a robbery. I gave the info to some guy, he wrote it out, and…"

"And?"

"Godmother's husband dies the next week. It's a murder." He started to move from the bed. "I wasn't really...kind to her after that. I guess it was just guilt. I felt wrong about the whole thing. I guess one of her friends found out because I got hurt pretty bad."

"Oh, bubby…" Carol stroked his arm. "That's horrible! Sounds like you could use a bit more time to think on it, or perh-"

"No, I...I need some air." He got dressed, and she did, too. Carol looked up. "If you need anything, let me know…" She walked to the street with him.

"Thanks…"

"Of course, mister...uh...heh, didn't quite get your name back there."

The man blushed. "Oh! It's Chad." He shook her hand. "Thanks for all that."

"Wait...did they ever get the murderer? I'm sorry to press..."

"I don't think so...but the guy apparently stays out in the middle of nowhere near a place called Defiance a lot." Chad checked his watch. "I've got to get going now...I'll see you."

He left a tip and walked in the direction of the university. She walked back up to her apartment, and put the cash away, then back to the street.

She saw someone walking her way…

Meanwhile, Calvin and Ivy were mulling about the kitchen, just trying to get some chicken finished and watch Ellie at the same time. Turns out it was pretty hard to do both at once. Calvin looked over at Ivy.

"Just a waiting game now...why don't we just be with th'little one for a bit?"

Ivy nodded. "Sure...what's she doing out there?"

When they went to the living room, they saw Ellie sitting at the piano and hammering out some notes.

"That's not god...that's nice….that's not so nice…" Ivy patted her head.

"Hey, kitty! What's you up to out here?"

"Tryn'a piano." She played a few notes. "Issat good?" Calvin sat down next to her on the bench.

"It's fantastic, I think." He smiled down at her as she toyed around with it.

"I dunno if it's right...I think my hands are too small." Calvin noticed that she was picking up his 'I' in words like 'Right'. Scooping into the I from an extremely soft O. Ivy noticed it as well.

"Why'd you say 'Right' like that?"

"I thought that's how you say it?" Ivy shook her head. "Well, some people say it like that, but here, they just say 'right'."

"Oh!" Calvin smiled. "You're awful impressionable, aren't you, Ellie?"

"What's im...imperrrsh...impershable mean?" She asked, scratching her head.

"It means you take after people. Do what they do, and all that."

"Is that bad?" Ellie asked.

"Of course not! Normal for a girl your age." Ivy said. "You grow out of it." Calvin got up and checked on dinner. He poked his head out of the kitchen. "Ivy, I'm gonna get things set up, we'll be ready t'eat soon."

Ivy nodded. "You know...Calvin can play piano alright."

"He can?" Asked Ellie, a gleam in her eye. "Mama used to play piano!"

"Did she now? What happened to mama?" Ivy asked. Ellie looked down.

"I dunno...she and papa got on a train and didn't come back." She sighed a little. Ivy scratched the little girl's ear.

"Don't worry, sweetie...plenty of people get by without all that. And you're gonna be just fine." Ivy got up and picked up Ellie. "Now, c'mon, we gotta go eat. You like food don'tcha?"

"I love food!" Ellie smiled.

"Good! Because Calvin got paid so we're gonna have plenty!" They sat down, and began to eat. Ellie was wide eyed at the amount of food there was...it was a nice surprise for her. She ate, that's for sure; her older sister was no slouch when it came to caring for her. But it was rarely ever this much.

"Calvin, you must be rich!" She said, looking at the impressive spread of chicken, potatoes, gravy...the lot. Calvin shook his head.

"Well, no, not rich...but I haggled fer the bird, and potatoes are cheap." He started to eat.

"What do you do for money?" Ellie asked.

"I write in the papers." He said. "Mostly sports right now...I also work for a restaurant. Neither pays well on its own, but I get to write at home." He said.

"Carol works from home." Ellie said. "Is that good?" Ivy nodded.

"As long as she's doing her best to take care of you, then she's doing a wonderful job." She said. Ellie nodded.

"I think she does a good job." She kept eating. "Someday we'll get all this for dinner." She was eating pretty quickly.

"Not so quick, Ellie, you might choke." Calvin chuckled a bit as he looked over.

"Oh. Carol eats quick, I thought it was a grown up thing."

"No, some do though. There you go, being impressionable again."

The group ate, and played piano, and finally, Calvin looked at the clock. "Goodness, it's late...Carol might be done with work. Let's go walk you back, eh?"

"Okay!" Ellie stretched to hold Calvin's hand and he and Ivy walked out the door. He got to her apartment and knocked.

"Sorry, you're late, I've had a few to-oh...Calvin? Who's this?" She looked over at Ivy. Ivy smiled and shook her hand.

"Ivy Pepper, Calvin's Fiance...nice to meet you."

"Likewise...Ellie! C'mere." She picked up Ellie. "Goodness...you're getting big, aren't you? What are they feeding you these days?"

"Calvin and Ivy got lots of food!" Carol acted surprised. "They do, now I might have to come sometime...now you go off to bed, sweet heart." Ellie scurried off. Carol leaned on the window.

"Thank you, so much...I won't be working tomorrow, maybe a few days from now? Can you leave me with directions to call?" Calvin nodded.

"I'll get you those tomorrow." She looked down. "Tough night...had a guy confess being an accomplice to murder, so that's always fun."

Ivy giggled. "Are you always so loose with that sort of information?"

"Well why don't you go and find this man since you know where he is from all that?" Carol winked. Ivy crossed her arms.

"Good point."

"I don't know that much about it all, anyway...not my business to press." Ivy suddenly had a thought. It was a longshot, but…

"Did they murder someone who ran a speakeasy?" Carol blushed.

"...I need you to know that I make a confidentiality promise and I can't say WHO it was…"

"That's fine." The hesitation was enough for Ivy to make an educated guess. "I'm sorry, i shouldn't ask stuff like that." Carol nodded.

"You two have a wonderful night, alright?"

"Of course. You do, too!" The couple walked off. Ivy held Calvin's hand. She looked up at him. "You're really sticking your neck out for a prostitute, aren't you?"

"...just being a good samaritan?" He nervously smiled and looked down. Ivy kissed his cheek.

"That's why I chose you, Freckle."


	7. Chapter 7: He Said She Said

Chapter 7: He Said She Said

Dominic got out of his car after a long drive, stretching his legs and putting on his hat. He was at the house in Defiance. He wasn't entirely certain on this lead. It was a cutthroat business, sure, but as far as he could tell, they'd been pretty loyal until the Marigold coerced them away. He was ready for something to go wrong; people tended to get antsy during this sort of thing.

He knocked on the door, and a dreary eyed woman answered the door.

"Hello?" The woman asked, her voice a little tired, as if she'd woken up recently.

"Are you Elsa?"

"...Who's asking?" She leaned on the door frame. Dominic took off his hat.

"I'm Dominic Drago, I'm investigating a murder…"

"Ah. Well, yes, I'm Elsa. My brother's away, but my husband's in. Come in, please." The dull-eyed woman let him in and looked around. "So I assume you're here for Johnson?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Johnson...murdered the other night? We're handling the funeral." She said. "It's a funeral home, after all…"

"Oh. Well, uhm...no. I'm here about something that happened a while ago."

"A while ago, you say?"

"Can you tell me how you knew Atlas May?"

The woman paused. "...you're working for Mitzi, aren't you?" She sat down. "He was our boss up until the end. My husband did a lot of the things with him on the business end. I helped load stuff up." She wiped her brow. "I just...I was shocked when we found out. Next thing you know, we got coerced into working with the marig-"

"Elsa? Who's this?" A large Englishman walked in. _This must be Bobby_, Dom thought. He stood up to shake his hand.

"Bobby? I'm Dominic Drago, I'm working to find the murderer of Atlas May." Bobby shook his hand.

"Atlas? It's been awhile...finally getting around to it, eh?" He sat down.

"Well...I hate to inform you, but one of the prime sources of evidence puts you in the spotlight." He pulled out the note. "This uses disappearing ink. Lemon juice. You were both involved in the war, and...so was this."

Bobby took the note and shined it to the light. "...hmm. Looks like Elsa's handwriting." Elsa looked at it.

"...Couldn't be, that's not how I do my S's."

"Well, couldn't we just see a document you wrote, Elsa?" Dominic asked.

"Of course." Elsa went to the basement, and picked up a few documents, mostly receipts and tax work. She pointed out the S, as well as the I and K. "Completely different, aren't they?"

Dominic couldn't deny it. "They do look awfully dissimilar, I won't lie." He rubbed his eyes. "Was this...a common tactic in the war?"

"Well, for spies, yes," Elsa started, "But neither of us were spies. I was a nurse, and Bobby was an officer with a ground unit." She stood up and put the other documents on the table. "Neither of us would've had to do something like that, and I'm not sure I even know exactly how it works."

"I see," Dominic sighed, "...did they have any drop-off points out here?"

"Yes, they did." Bobby said. "I could drive you to it. I think...on the night of the murder, we dropped something, and saw a man coming out. I figured they were just shooing away some scavenger."

"Wait...you said someone was seen?" Dominic looked a little intrigued, and pulled out a little notepad and a pencil.

"Yes, broad-shouldered man if I recall...he headed towards the general store."

"He looked like…" Elsa stopped herself, and shook her head. "No, couldn't have been."

"It very well could have, Mrs. Arbogast." Dominic said, leaning in.

"There was...someone here to collect for the Marigold." She said. "I can't remember his name. I think it was Weasel Face or something. If I recall, he looked like the man we saw running." She went over to the cupboard and got a glass of water for herself. "Of course, could've been anyone, a lot of strong men in this profession." She said. She laughed a little. "He tried to hit on me, though. I got a good look at his face. It did look sort of weasel-ish."

"Hit on you the night he came to collect?"

"Yes." She said. "He's strapping, but I'm already happy enough." She added. "But I didn't get a good look the night we drove back from the site."

"...Let's see the site, then."

The site was an old garden shed with a lock on the front that opened to a staircase. On the way down there was a rail, and inside there were some barrels and a few trashed bottles; signs of a small scuffle. Looked like it hadn't been touched in years. "The Healys, the new suppliers for the daisy? They have a new one. This hasn't been touched."

"Well...we know it wasn't a scavenger." He said. "Nothing's been stolen." He looked around. "I assume he would've been running around trying to get things." Bobby nodded.

"The man didn't have anything with him when he was running." Elsa rubbed her eyes.

"So we saw the murderer that night then?"

"We certainly did." Bobby sighed. "Was this of any help?"

"Well...broad-shouldered? Do you remember anything else?"

Bobby nodded. "Dark fur...we might have to go with a description of 'Weasel Face'."

On the way out, Dom got a written description of the man who hit on her that night and wrote down the only possible name at all. _Weasel Face._ He got back home, and the question racked his brain. A month ago now, he'd gone to the Marigold for another case. When he went to Asa Sweet's office, he saw someone who Asa called 'Wes'. Wes did look weasel-ish, had broad shoulders, dark fur, and a few other features mentioned before. Could it have been him? He heard his door open, and Lorelei poked her head in.

"You troubled, sweetheart?"

"You troubled, peekon?" Serafine asked. She was sitting in Mordecai's office, trying to get his attention. Mordecai was looking at an old picture of him and Atlas. He looked completely normal on the outside, as if he was just looking out of curiosity, trying to remember what brooch someone wore that day, or something like that. He shook his head.

"I'm fine, Serafine." He sat up. "I just...have no idea who did this." He said. "I know it had to be one of _us, _at the Marigold. But who?"

"I dunno, but we got work t'do." She said. "Nico's waitin'." Mordecai and Serafine walked out the door. Serafine looked over. "Juss' a run tonight." Mordecai walked down the hall towards the truck, and saw Wes. He looked over.

"Wes."

"Mordecai." Wes casually checked his nails. "I heard you helped Serafine with a pretty gruesome hit the other day."

"I did, yes. I heard you did absolutely nothing on a beer run and got all the credit while fish lifted boxes."

"...Shut up." He pushed Mordecai aside. Mordecai and Serafine got to the car. "Where to, Nico?"

"Arbogasts. Wes don' wanna run it tonight, some reason."

"Because he's lost his touch."

"You got a grudge, eh, friend?" Serafine looked over.

"Maybe." He looked out the window. "...I'd like to wring that man's neck one of these days."

Serafine whistled. "Phew, Mordecai! You really got sometin against weasel, don't you now?"

"I suppose so." He sighed deeply and crossed his legs. "I just...don't like him. Something doesn't sit well between us these days." Serafine nodded.

"I can feel dat." The group drove into the night for another uneventful night. An idea crept into Mordecai's head about Wes, but he quickly shook it off. There was no way Wes was plotting to kill him. Still, Wes had become icy in recent months. Maybe it was past events, where a supplier was raided and Mordecai left Wes out to dry. Perhaps it was something deeper.

Did Wes know something that Mordecai didn't?


	8. Chapter 8: Mitzi's Office

Chapter 8: Mitzi's Office

Mitzi was sitting in her office, reading some accounting papers and signing some checks. It was a boring but important part of the job, and one she was finally able to actually do, now that she was at least making money to pay people. She rubbed her eyes...she didn't get too much sleep the night before. Mostly just up thinking. She hadn't thought this much about Atlas in a while...she loved Wick, sure, but it was hard now that Atlas was the main talking point on the Daisy's mind. It seems everyone and their mother knew about the search, but luckily no one had come up with any hair brain theories abo-

"Mitzi!" Rocky and Ivy jumped into the room. Rocky went first.

"We figured it out!" Ivy went.

"The killer knew the place really well and left almost no trace, right?" Mitzi tried to speak.

"Well, I-" Rocky cut her off.

"Which means that he had to be able to get out and not look suspicious!"

"Which means it had to be someone who WORKED HERE!"

Mitzi shook her head. "No, the theory now is-"

"The only one who managed to get a promotion out of this whole deal was Horatio! It was HORAT-"

"Would you two be QUIET!" Mitzi slammed her hands down on the desk and stood from her chair, seething. She sat down. "...the theory is that someone close to us gave information to someone from the Marigold." She said. The group was quiet for just a moment, and then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." In walked Dominic Drago, who looked a little tired. "Hello, Miss May. I have news."

"What is it?"

"Couldn't have been Bobby or Elsa." Mitzi sighed with relief.

"Thank goodness…" She yawned. "So what's the theory?" Rocky stood up.

"Mister Drago? We have an idea!"

"And what might that be?" Dominic asked. Ivy furrowed her brow and looked over.

"Wait, Rocky, I don't think we were right...how were Bobby and Elsa involved?"

"I can't say." Dominic said. "Confidential. But I have an idea who it might've been." He said. "I think we're looking for a man named Wes." Rocky scoffed.

"Believe me, we've come across Weasel Face before! Couldn't have been him." Dominic leaned on the wall.

"And why's that?"

"You said the killer found his way IN, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"How would he even get into the place if he had no friends here to give him anything?" Ivy leaned in.

"He _didn't _have any friends at the daisy, did he?" She asked.

"That's true...did he have money?" Dominic asked. Rocky shrugged.

"Only as much as his handler, Asa Sweet, would give him. I doubt it was much." Rocky said. Mitzi groaned.

"Sometimes it doesn't take much." She stood up and walked around to the door. "We haven't got much going for us, have we? How're we supposed to pin it on him?"

"Someone matching his description was seen hanging around defiance that night, 'sfar as I could gather." Dominic said. He paced around the room.

"...how about we intimidate the answer out of him?" Ivy asked.

"He might confess just to get us to stop scaring him." Dominic said. Mitzi looked over.

"With Viktor out of action for that arm injury last week, we haven't got anyone intimidating _enough._"

"What about Cal?" Rocky asked.

"He's busy with some prostitute's sister." Mitzi said.

"Ivy, I had no idea your sister was a lady of the night!" Rocky seemed surprised. "What's her number, and does she let you call her different names?" Ivy smacked him.

"She's not MY sister! It's different than that." She went over to a bottle of brandy that Mitzi had in her office and poured herself some. "And either way, he's really not that intimidating. He's too much of a sweetie to wanna scare someone like that."

"So this wes character," Dominic said, trying to get back on track, "he didn't have any friends at the daisy, but someone like him was seen around the exit site."

"The Marigold as a pickup site near that old one, too, now they use it for the Arbogasts." Mitzi said. "He had every reason to be back there."

"Then who was running from the site when the Arbogasts left that night?" Dominic asked, his brain knocking itself back and forth, trying to make sense of anything.

"It's a mystery."

"It's a mystery!" Carol was rushing around the apartment. Calvin was there to pick up Ellie and take her to Ivy's dorm for the night, but...well, Carol was looking for something. "I got some money out of the strongbox this morning and now I can't find it anywhere!"

"What color was it?" Asked Calvin.

"It was red. My parents' insurance company gave it to us before they...left." She chose her words carefully...Ellie was, after all, right there on the sofa, helping to look as best as a little girl could. Calvin looked in a closet, and saw all manner of things...mostly womens underwear and scant dresses, but a little bit of red peeking through the back of a drawer. "I think I have it." He pulled it out, and sure enough, there it was. He counted the bills. "424 dollars. Is that right?"

"Perfect! Thank you so much, Cal!" She hugged him and kissed his cheek, and he blushed a little. He wasn't used to this sort of familiarity, especially with women _not_ named Ivy Pepper.

"Thanks, I, uhm...appreciate it." He grabbed Ellie's hand. "C'mon, Ellie, we're gonna go see a college."

"That sounds fun!" Ellie followed excitedly. "Bye, Carol, see you soon!"

"Bye, sweetheart! Calvin, take care of her!" As the door shut, Carol sat on her couch. She felt...something about Calvin. She knew she shouldn't, he was getting married, and familiarity with anyone could be detrimental to her current career. It was fleeting, she was sure of it...he was the first man she'd met in a while who wasn't a potential client, and while she didn't think there _weren't _good men out there, the last time she'd met one who wasn't critical of her career was hard to remember. She got dressed for the night, looked outside, and heard the phone ring.

"Hello? Yes, this is she. Sure. Alright. Come to think of it, there've been some issues with the stove, you wouldn't mind coming to take a look around 10? Odd hour of the night, I know, but I'm very busy until then. Splendid...thanks." She hung up. She was in for a long night, that guy always took ages to finish the job. _Must be his age, _she thought, _I bet Calvin's not like that, he looks- _she stopped herself. She knew it couldn't happen.

She heard a knock on the door. She went over to answer it, smiling gently as she did.

"Oh! You must be here about the lights. The faulty one's this way."


	9. Chapter 9: Revenge

Chapter 9: Revenge

"_Revenge is a confession of pain."_

_-Proverb_

Modecai had walked through the front door of the Little Daisy Cafe many times before. He was frequently seen there some years ago, but one day, he just...stopped coming.

Today, that would change.

Mordecai, dressed smartly, walked into the Little Daisy, and hung up his hat on the rack, pitching his umbrella under it as well. He looked over at Ivy, who sort of...stared for a moment.

"Mordecai? What're you doing here?"

"Business." He coldly walked upstairs, and didn't knock on the door before entering. "Mitzi." He said, standing in the doorway.

"Mordecai? What on earth are you doing h-"

"Tell me what you know about Atlas' murder." He said. He shut the door and sat across from her.

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Tell. Me. About. Atl-"

"I knew what you meant." She retorted quickly. She crossed her arms. "Besides, what does it matter anyhow? Not like I know much."

"Don't lie to me, I know you're working with Dominic Drago, and I know that he stops at nothing to get his man."

"This isn't _your_ case to solve, Mordecai. What, do you think you're just gonna...rip the rug from under me?" She crossed her arms. "Forget it."

"I'm trying to help you."

"You could've helped by _staying, _you damn turncoat son of a bitch!"

What?

"What did I even do to make you this ups-"

"WHAT DID YOU DO!? What the HELL do you mean 'what did you do'!?" She slammed her hands on the table and stood, shouting down at him. "You LEFT me like I was nothing!"

"Everyone gets left behind in this business, even the big fish. There isn't any security in this business." He stood to meet her. "Or did you think it would be hard for everyone but you? Did you just figure that your looks and charm would carry you to an easy victory, like some sort of picture sh-"

Mordecai...felt a sting. He wasn't facing Mitzi anymore. Had she…

"...you just slapped me."

"What, didn't think a dainty little ol' southern belle could actually hit someone?"

"MITZI." He barked, uncharacteristically, seeming annoyed. "I am trying to help you."

"_Bullshit _you're trying to help me! I lose my husband and you just...take off! And now that it's relevant again you want in!? He was my Husband! You have no idea what that's been on my sho-"

"He was a fath-" Mordecai interrupted her, and the room fell silent. He sat down. "...he was important to me." Mitzi slumped back in her chair.

"Why, Mordecai? Why'd you jump ship and then crawl back?"

"I figured it would be lucrative." he said. "I knew that after Atlas died, after everything in New York, I was doomed to not enjoying my employer. I wasn't sure you had running a speakeasy in you and Asa Sweet is a madman who thinks the flies are working with the police department." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I figured I wasn't fated to enjoy my work, but whether or not I felt satisfied with my employer didn't matter to the landlord."

"So you kneecapped your lover and went away?"

"That was a necessary evil and he and I have since reconciled."

"I sure hope so." Mitzi pulled out some things from her desk. "...simply put, the best we have is that someone sold information to someone at the Marigold. Possibly named Wes."

"Hmm. He's been acting up recently." He said. "No one's really sure why." He thought a minute. "It could've been him." Mordecai added.

"Seems...obvious, doesn't it?" Mitzi asked. "Are we sure it wasn't someone entirely different?"

"Who could it have been?" Mordecai asked. "Couldn't possibly have been Wes' helper, Fish. Not enough clout."

Mitzi rubbed her eyes. "It just doesn't add up t'me. Wes buys information, gets into the house, then just leaves? Isn't he more destructive than that?"

"It's more that he isn't clean enough to pull it off. But...Fish could be." He said. Mitzi shook her head.  
"Never even heard of this Fish man."

"That's how he got away with it, I think." Mordecai walked over to the desk. "He's so unassuming he gets into practically anywhere he wants. I've seen him walk into a prison off of confidence alone. He's sharp, too." Mitzi gasped and remembered something. "The knife."

"The knife?" Mordecai's ear perked up and he leaned over. "What knife?"

"The knife they found on the scene...I doubt it's still got prints on it but it might look familiar."

"I'm afraid not, this was all before my time there." Mordecai slumped. "Unless it's got a big F on it, there's really no way to tell." Mitzi thought for a moment.

"Only thing we had other than that and the instructions was a shoe."

"Shoe?" Mordecai asked. He looked a little more optimistic about this one, which is to say that he showed an emotion other than melancholy.

"It was big, too...size 11 I think."

"Fish has big feet."

"So does that Wes fella, and so do lots of folks in this business." Mitzi said. "It's just...common for folks t'be big."

"Best case scenario is that we've narrowed it down to two people I come into contact with on a daily basis." Mordecai stood up. "Frankly, I'd say we have the beginnings of an answer."

Mitzi smirked. "I s'pose we do, Mister Heller...now you go run along, haven't you got a job you work at?"

"Not until 4." He exited without any fanfare and walked to his car...well, 'his car' being a company car for the Marigold. He sat next to the driver, Serafine.

"Any information, Peekon?"

"It was either Wes or Fish. Or someone else with a size 11 shoe."

"Dat's a hard ting to test for an' not be suspicious, eh, Mordecai?"

"It's all we've got right now." He said. He looked down. "She was mad at me for coming now."

"Maybe de part where you left her high an' dry an' den decided to go for her biggest enemy?"

"Exactly that." Mordecai said. "I figure this will be a sort of redemption for me. I feel as if my time at the Marigold is coming to an end...that's good."

"Sure. Pretty good." She drove, and they ended up on another pointless whack job for Asa Sweet. The nights were growing to be tedious, but maybe that would change soon...hopefully that would end after all of this.

One can only hope.


End file.
